


Sometime Ago I Fell

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: After the Fall, Gen, Lamentation, Lost - Freeform, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Fall, Sherlock laments the loss of John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometime Ago I Fell

**Author's Note:**

> some time ago I fell,  
> not from the sky as some might require  
> not from grace that others would conspire
> 
> love claimed me and named me  
> it brought me and sold me  
> and I was filled with longing and released
> 
> some time ago I fell,  
> the trembling of my heart revealed  
> what could no longer be concealed  
> that my love for you was true
> 
> some time ago I fell  
> and since, I’ve known such bliss  
> for when I fell, you caught me  
> with your long and luscious kiss
> 
> please hold me in that space  
> that gentle sea beside your face  
> where lips met lips  
> and love forgets to seek gravity’s grace
> 
> By >:D Star

Sherlock didn't know if he'd survive the fall. His plans had been drawn up and implemented in such a short amount of time; there was always the possibility of unforeseen errors. He had to trust to his homeless network to distract John and to back up the most relevant parts of his plot. He had to trust Molly to failsafe his deception; so much depended on trusting so many.

He remembered his tears upon the roof. Telling John he was a fraud, begging him to believe the lie, asking him to not only believe, but to spread the lie. Those tears had been real. In his life he had manipulated all those around him easily with little or no effort. Sherlock had ever been the consummate actor. His performances Golden Globe material, but those tears had come from his newly discovered heart. Those tears had seared that heart, because he knew inside that John would never accept his words; never believe the unbelievable.

Now the hard work began. The deception had to be so much more divisive. Now his whole life became the lie. Moriarty would be proud.

 

The rain wouldn't stop. It came down in sheets. The overcast skies made the daylight seem like twilight. John in a full length raincoat walked to Sherlock's grave site. He wore no hat and the rain slicked down his already short hair. He looked fatigued, not the weariness of lack of sleep, but the melancholy of loss. He still stood tall, still walked with pride and dignity. He was still Sherlock's John.

Sherlock watched from the shadows, watched as he always did. Watched as John stood in the pouring rain and spoke in loving tones, spoke to his departed friend as if he could still hear. Once a month since the fall, punctually he gave his report; month after month, year after year. His life, his work, his loves, everything he was about came to his fair lips. Sometimes Sherlock felt that John knew he was still alive; knew these monthly visits were all that Sherlock lived for. Even if he was on the other side of the world, cameras set here in the graveyard would bring John's words to him. 

Sometime ago I fell, John. I fell from grace, from honor, from life, love and laughter; your love, John, your laughter. Our friendship is my only treasure now. The shadows are my world and you, dear John, are my only beacon home.

Sometime ago I fell, John, and I am falling still. Through the darkest part of my soul, through the madman's web of intrigue, falling without wings to bare me up. Falling in silence and only the sound of your voice anchors my heart. Only your presence here at my head stone, that is all I have of you now. Please, John, don't let me fall anymore.


End file.
